The Romantics

Gael scooted back on the bed and crossed his arms. “Real easy to judge. It’s not like you’ve had loads of time to deal with being single.”

There was a brief pause, but Sammy just pressed her lips together and stood up. “I’m just saying, maybe two people who are obviously hung up on other people shouldn’t just jump into something because they ran into each other in the street.”

Her words were bold and strong, like bitter, burnt coffee. “But what if there’s a reason why we met,” he asked, a little vehemently. As he racked his brain for a way to support his case, his eyes landed, once again, on her shirt. Bingo. He nodded to it. “Like in Casablanca. Ilsa and Victor running into each other again.”

Sammy laughed, then shook her head. “And if you remember the ending, it didn’t work out.”

“That’s only because it was in war-torn Morocco,” Gael said, his voice gaining strength. He may have been badly and obviously rebounding, but he could at least make his point with movies. “Anywhere else and it would have.”

Sammy rolled her eyes. “Life isn’t a rom-com. Much as I love them, they aren’t real.”

Gael momentarily forgot his point. “You love rom-coms?”

“I do,” she said, her shoulders relaxing a bit. “Do you have a problem with that?”

Gael laughed. “No, I just expected someone who was obsessed with French lit to have a bit more sophisticated movie taste.”

“Hey,” Sammy said. “I’m not that big of a snob.”

Gael found that debatable, but he let it go.

Sammy shrugged. “I’m just saying, timing is important. And maybe two people who both have really recent baggage shouldn’t rush in.”

(She was right, of course. Hence the need for my job.)

“So you’re telling me you didn’t rush when you met John?” Gael asked indignantly.

“What are you guys talking about?”

Gael and Sammy whipped around to see Piper standing in the doorway.

Sammy discreetly wiped her hand under her eyes and then cocked one hip to the side. “Casablanca,” she said. “And the girl Gael currently has a crush on.”

“You have a crush on someone!” Piper squealed.

“None of your business,” Gael said, blushing again and feeling thoroughly outnumbered. “And even if I did, Sammy thinks it’s a bad idea.”

Piper’s eyes volleyed from Sammy to Gael and back again. Then she smiled her wonderful-world-of-Wikipedia smile, the smile of having learned a new, useful fact.

“Well, all I know is, if Sammy doesn’t think you should be with her, she must have a good reason. Come on, Sammy,” Piper said. “We still have four translations left!”

Piper stomped out of the room, dragging Sammy by the hand.

“You’re the boss!” Sammy said to Piper, leaving Gael alone with his thoughts.





gael’s evening search queries, in chronological order


5:03 P.M.

how can you tell if you’re rebounding



5:06 P.M.

am I rebounding quiz



5:15 P.M.

serial monogamist definition



5:17 P.M.

dating a new person after being cheated on



5:28 P.M.

what does it mean when a girl says can we just be friends for now



5:40 P.M.

famous quotes from casablanca about love



6:05 P.M.

dating a college girl while in high school



6:12 P.M.

the girl i like doesn’t like movies



6:29 P.M.

girl says she likes me but doesn’t want to date for two weeks is she blowing me off



6:40 P.M.

is going to a basketball game a date



6:43 P.M.

what if I’m alone forever





a house divided


The next evening, as Gael prepared to leave the house for his Friday-night pseudo-date with Cara, his mom stopped him in the front hallway.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

Gael reached for the doorknob with one hand and tugged at the logo on his sweatshirt with the other. “There’s a basketball game tonight. I have tickets.”

His mom sighed loudly and crossed her arms against her tiny frame. Then she grabbed a trinket from the foyer table, dusted it with the bottom of her shirt, and put it back. “When were you going to tell me? You’re supposed to have dinner with your dad tonight.”

Gael shrugged. “I already told Dad. He said he has extended office hours tonight anyway, and he’d pick up Piper for dinner after he was done.”

“Well, you didn’t tell me,” his mom snapped.

Gael let go of the doorknob and crossed his arms. “I’m telling you now. Plus, the fact that you and Dad suck at communicating with each other really isn’t my problem.”

For a second, his mom looked shocked at his frankness, but then she shook her head. “You know, you’re really supposed to be hanging out with your dad on Friday nights. You owe it to him.”

Gael sighed. “So I’m not allowed to do anything on Fridays just because you guys split up?” he asked. “How is that fair?”

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